Unlikelihood
by PirateRina717
Summary: Season three, written as if it followed the first two seasons' plotlines and story arcs. AU, all canon couples, spoilers for season 2 finale. Rated T for safety. Formerly "Season Three Retold."


**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Robin Hood_. It is owned by the wonderful BBC and is the idea of Dominic Minghella and Foz Allan. I am not Dominic Minghella or Foz Allan, or any of the actors whose characters I am using. In fact, the entire point of this fic is that I do not own _Robin Hood_, and therefore had no say in the production of the infamous third season.

**A/N:** All right, here it is: the third season. I did not like the third season of Robin Hood. In fact, only the MANY deaths of the last episode were remotely interesting to me. If you thought that the third season was good the way it was, stop reading now. So, in the words of Adam Savage from Mythbusters, (the funniest show ever, with a plus of being educational) "I reject your reality and substitute my own."

In this new reality, there are some changes.

1. Isabella, Meg, Archer, and (sorry) Tuck do not exist.

2. Will and Djaq stay with Robin.

3. Kate will only be a minor character that appears in one or two episodes, in which she will NOT be the main plot. I didn't like her, either, but maybe her character can be redeemed. Maybe.

4. Guy of Gisbourne keeps his old haircut and does not have any blood relation to Robin. Zero. Nil. Nada. The fact that they were forced to be brothers by a crippled old guy was kind of a cliché.

I am trying to keep this as close to the first two seasons as possible, with locations in bold before every scene. And hey, I am throwing in the main titles.

So, keeping all of that in mind, we shall begin.

Episode 1

**Bradford's Ship, Mediterranean Sea**

And then there was silence.

At first, there were only a few words. Some to the captain on the ship, but mostly to Much. Words with no feeling, no spirit. Just habit. The habit of saying please and thank you, of asking everyone if they were feeling all right (on the creakiest boat that ever sailed, as far as Much was concerned). Then Robin stopped talking. He would eat and nod, nod and eat. He would do everything as if that was how he _was_ now, now that Marion—

Robin turned the ring over in his hand: over and over, never stopping, never letting it leave his sight. Much was concerned, of course, but what could he do? He could not really talk to Robin about the death of a loved one as if he had gone through it himself, because he hadn't. Much just sat there, shaking and worrying that his Master would never be the same. If his Master could not save England, then who could? The King had shown his worth in the Holy Land. His Majesty had shown them what all their hard work was for: nothing. Richard was not coming back to England for a long time. He left Robin and his gang to fend for themselves and keep the peace for him. But they were still outlaws. They still had to fight for their lives every other day, and all the King could say was the he was Robin Hood. And as courageous as Much thought that was, he thought that the King was rather unfit to say it.

Because Marion had died saving him. Carter had died saving him.

And a part of Robin had died with them.

However, Much was not the only person on the boat who was worried about Robin. Will and Djaq were so concerned about Robin that they hadn't even planned their wedding. They had chosen to wait until Robin recovered from Marion's death to decide whether or not they could stay in the gang. To be there, married, just to help Robin seek his revenge, would be an unnecessary strain on everyone. John was doing his best to be cheerful, even though it was not his style. He comforted everyone, even Allan, who for the most part was being excluded from the gang. Allan blamed himself for Marion's death, and was terrified that he would lose his second chance at being in the gang, with his friends. Allan also knew, deep down, everyone else must be blaming him for her death, too.

But nobody said anything about Marion the whole journey.

The captain of the ship, Bradford, lumbered down the wet stairs to hand the group of outlaws their meal. Bradford was in Robin's debt for not having his business closed down, for Robin had given him enough money that the Sheriff extended his tax due date. In fact, Bradford was grateful enough to Robin and his gang to convert his boat into a passenger ship for the time being. The one setback was what the ship was actually used for: sheep. At least a hundred living, bleating, pooping sheep. Much was already seasick without the sheep, and the smell of wet, dirty wool did not help.

Much took his bowl of food warily. "What is it today, Bradford?"

"Lamb," Bradford replied. He boomed with laughter after Much took a bite, for Bradford was a big man with a similarly sized sense of humor.

Much managed a "What?" between mouthfuls.

"I believe you're eating that cute little lamb you were playing with yesterday. The one that pooped on you." Much looked down at his food in absolute horror while Bradford winked to the rest of the passengers. Everyone stifled his or her laughter. Except Robin.

"You should have heard the noises it made," continued Bradford, "When we slit its little throat—"

"Ugh, just shut up!" cried Much, dropping his bowl and all its contents onto the floor, "That is _revolting!_"

The lamb in question entered the lower deck, walked up to Much, and licked his hand. It then relieved itself on Much's food.

The gang began to laugh heartily, with Much muttering, "I knew it. That wasn't funny," under his breath. One by one they realized that Robin was not laughing with them, and they fell silent again.

Bradford cleared his throat, silently apologizing for his joke. "Well, young masters, we've landed in England. Don't worry, it's a port where there aren't many guards about."

Much stood up. "You mean… we're on land?" Bradford nodded. Much paused. "Excuse me," he said as he ran above deck and began to kiss the ground. Slowly the rest of the gang filed out of the boat, leaving Bradford to escort Robin off.

Robin blocked his eyes from the sunrise as he returned to England at last. But it was not his home without Marion. Bradford patted him on the back in reassurance.

"Thank you," whispered Robin. Bradford nodded to him. John returned with a horse for Robin, and the six outlaws road along the dusty dirt path before quickly ducking into the woods away from the port town. Bradford crossed his arms and sighed.

"Good luck, Robin Hood."

**Deep in the Heart of England**

**Lives a Legend**

**ROBIN HOOD**

**Jonas Armstrong**

**Richard Armitage**

**and**

**Keith Allen**

**Gordon Kennedy**

**Sam Troughton**

**Joe Armstrong**

**Harry Lloyd**

**Anjali Jay**

**Based on the Creation by**

**Dominic Minghella and Foz Allan**

**Episode 1**

**BEST SERVED COLD**

**Written by**

**PirateRina 717**

**Nottingham Castle**

The pageboy approached Guy of Gisbourne's room carefully. Every other servant sent to summon Sir Guy to the Sheriff had returned via the infirmary with cuts, bruises, various injuries. The page took a deep breath and rapped lightly on the door. In the words of the cook under whom the boy served, there was a "deafening silence". This time, the knock was louder, almost with a harsh plea. Nothing. Which was why the boy was surprised to find the door unlocked when he grabbed the handle. The old door squeaked and shook as it opened, even though the gap was only a few inches wide. The boy peered inside.

A chilling breeze, and an unhealthy amount of dust and ash billowed out of the crack the open door had made. The boy tried not to cough. Then he thought he had made a mistake and opened the door to the dungeons, for it looked very much the same. It was darker than night and colder than the deep winter freezes in Sir Guy's room. Windows had been covered with bed sheets and the fireplace was just a pillar of smoke. Desks and chairs were overturned, books and scrolls all over the floor with pages ripped out or missing. Scorch marks, evidently made by a hot poker, were etched and scratched along the walls. Everything looked like it was made in anger. And on the small bed, in the far corner of the room, was Guy.

The pageboy had seen Sir Guy before at hangings, and on his dark horse riding up and down the streets of his village before he worked at the castle. But the man sitting curled up, hugging his knees closely and rocking back and forth, did not look like Sir Guy. This man's hair was sticking up in all directions, and the only explanation the boy could think of for this was that the man was trying to pull his hair out. The man on the bed was whimpering something inaudible, and his face glistened with his tears from the outside light. And even as the boy approached rather loudly to tactfully wake the man up, his watery eyes were looking into the distance. He did not want to wake up.

"Sir Guy?" asked the boy quietly. "Sir Guy?" Now that he was closer, the boy now could hear what Sir Guy was mumbling.

"Marion," he said. "Marion."

The pageboy now could hear the Sheriff shout, "Where's Gisbourne? I'll KILL THAT BOY!" and the footsteps of soldiers approaching.

"Please, Sir Guy," the boy pleaded, "I beg you—"

Sir Guy whipped his head around to stare at the boy. He looked as if the boy was mocking him with a bad joke he had heard before. "What. Did. You. SAY?" Guy shouted, attacking the boy with lightening speed. He grabbed the boy by his collar and shoved him hard against the wall. Roaring like a wild animal, Guy drew his arm back to strike the page. The boy cried out and covered his face with his small arms.

The Sheriff entered the room with two guards, and stopped Guy's arm in mid-blow. The Sheriff's eyes were narrow and his brow was serious. Guy just continued to glare at the kitchen boy, panting vigorously. "Gisbourne," said the Sheriff, "Let the boy go. Now." Reluctantly, Guy let go of the boy's collar, causing the page to collapse to the floor before running back to the kitchens.

"Come with me, Gisbourne. We are going to have a little talk," said the Sheriff.

"No," whispered Guy, "I am done with you. Everything was for nothing, and Marion is... is..." Guy almost cried. "I am not going!"

The Sheriff sighed. "Very well, if you insist." He gestured for the guards to drag Guy along to the dining hall. Guy bellowed in protest and tried to fight it, but eventually he was brought and strapped to a chair in front of the Sheriff. Gisbourne, having stopped struggling, began yelling at the Sheriff to let him go back to his room and deal with his evils in peace.

"_Your _evils, Gisbourne?" asked the Sheriff, getting annoyed, "_Your _evils? If it wasn't for your murder of your leper friend—"

"Don't speak about it!" roared Guy.

"—We would have WON!" continued the Sheriff, circling Gisbourne and directing all his volume into Guy's ears, "Won, Gisbourne, FOR THE FIRST TIME IN OUR LIVES! But, oh no, you had to make everything a mess, didn't you? Hmm? You had to ruin our plans. You had to get the Black Knights so scared they almost WITHDREW THEIR BLOODY FUNDS! And, to top it off, Prince John is making me start back again as a sheriff. _Just_ a sheriff, Gisbourne! You and I now have to work back up to the positions and pay we once had! It took us four long years to do that! And do I get an apology? No! All I get is your half-brained attempts at suicide on the ship over, a good chamber perfectly wrecked, and now all this whining over a _woman_, Gisbourne! SHE WAS JUST A WOMAN!"

"SHE WAS NOT!" Gisbourne returned, matching the Sheriff's volume and almost breaking the bonds that kept him seated. "Marion was the best thing that ever happened to me! And it is not _all_ my fault!"

The Sheriff groaned in exasperation. "Yes, it is. You see, if we had killed the King, all our problems would have been over! However, since we failed to kill the King—"

"_You _failed to kill the King," Gisbourne cut in.

"Yes, but you were going to finish him off, weren't you? Then the lovely Marion got in the way. And since you _killed_ her," Gisbourne winced, "Robin Hood is not going to stop until he kills you! Which means that he has told the King about John and our little scheme, which means that if we don't immediately kill the King upon his now inevitable return," the Sheriff moved to be inches away from Gisbourne's face, "We are going to die. We are going to be slaughtered like pigs in a butcher shop, and all our work will have been for nothing! And all because everyone but YOU realized that she was in love with Hood THE ENTIRE TIME!" Guy looked away, ashamed at the truth in his superior's words. The Sheriff came around behind Gisbourne to whisper in one of his ears.

"Gizzy, please stop moping. Marion wouldn't want you to mope for her." At this, Guy perked up a bit. "If Marion said any truth, and she was a truthful person, she cared for you. Hmm? Gisbourne? Marion cared for you, didn't she?" Guy nodded slowly, and the Sheriff began to smile evilly. "Marion would want you to be happy. The happiest you can be. And do you know what can cause you, Gisbourne, to be the happiest you can be, now that she's gone?"

"What?"

The Sheriff was close enough to Guy to barely stick his tongue out and lick Guy's ear. "Power," the Sheriff breathed. "Marion found you a better person when you were in control, am I right? Whether it was control of yourself, or controlling people, Marion adored you for it."

Gisbourne's eyes began to come back to earth, and his body relaxed a bit more. His breathing became normal. Even his hair seemed to fall back in the right place. The Sheriff untied his bonds.

"Now, Gisbourne, go home. Go to Locksley. I honestly don't want you destroying any more rooms in the castle, because guess who is cleaning it up? Well, guess who is paying the people who clean it up? Me." The Sheriff started to walk out of the dining hall. "Get some sleep," he called over his shoulder, "and come back tomorrow." Gisbourne stood, and left the castle in ghost-like trance.

**Outlaws' Camp**

"I'm going to kill Gisbourne."

As soon as the outlaws arrived at their camp and disposed of their horses, they began chatting and moving and making noise. It was natural for them, being home again. The gang needed to relax and not worry about guards and men of authority jumping down on them at every opportunity. The only change to be made was the shifting of Will and Djaq's bunks to become one. After some quick hunting for something that was not squirrel, pots and pans were clanking and meat was frying and soon everyone was laughing, talking and toasting their good health. Except for Robin, of course. Only this time, the gang was a little tired of Robin being a wet blanket, and wouldn't let him ruin their fun.

At least, that was what they thought, until Robin said, "I'm going to kill Gisbourne."

It was murmured, mumbled, not meant to be heard by anyone. Just for Robin to convince himself that he was truly set on it. When all of that was thought out, he said it again a little louder. "I'm going to kill Gisbourne." This time, Much and Djaq turned, but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary about the depressed Robin.

"I'm going to kill Gisbourne," he said once more, now loud enough for the whole gang to hear. They quieted down and all turned to face him.

Much was the first to speak. "W-What did you say, Robin?"

"I'm going to kill Gisbourne," said Robin, looking down at his ring and turning it over in his hands. Then he stood, and started collecting his sword and other things he would need for his assassination.

Much leaned forward in his chair. "Uh, Master?" Robin did not acknowledge him. "How are you going to do that?" Much laughed nervously. "I mean, do you want us to come with you?" Robin said nothing, but the gang could tell he needed backup. They dropped everything and went to get their things, leaving Allan flabbergasted in mid-bite.

"Now, just 'old on a second," Allan said, "I'm not bein' funny, but isn't it a bit risky goin' into Locksley? 'Cause Gisbourne wants to kill you, too. I mean, what are you goin' to do once you get there?"

Robin turned to Allan with a deathly glare. "I'm going to kill Gisbourne."

Allan rolled his eyes. "Yes, we've established that. But _'ow _are you goin' to do it? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you can't just walk into your old 'ome and expect that 'e'd be sittin' there waitin' for you to kill 'im."

"I am sure that Robin has a well-thought out plan," said Much, "Don't you, Robin?" Robin shrugged. "Half a plan?" Silence. "Hold on," Much said to everyone. "Before we go, I really

think we should have a plan. At least half of one. And when I say 'plan', I mean something otherthan 'kill Gisbourne'." And with that, the gang gathered to discuss strategy.

Vaizey paced in front of the three skulls that held his false teeth. With no one to hear the thoughts of his masterful mind, he began to speak to himself, removing and replacing his missing tooth.

"So, Prince John doesn't think I can do this job, does he?" the Sheriff asked himself. "Well, we'll see about that." The Sheriff rubbed his chin thoughtfully, while sticking another tooth into his jaw. "What can I do to win back his trust? Well, for starters, I can kill the King off properly this time. Now there is no Marion to interfere with my plans. To do this, I need the Black Knights. And to do this, I need the Pact of Nottingham."

Vaizey smacked the stand holding his selection of teeth angrily, remembering where exactly the pact was. The skulls toppled over and some molars spewed across the floor. In his anger, the tooth that was previously in his head had fallen out. He sighed at the thought of getting on his hands and knees to find a new tooth to replace… Then realization dawned on him.

"I can always make a _new_ pact," said Vaizey. "Yes, yes, why didn't I think of it before? With a new Pact of Nottingham, I can regain what was mine! I can kill Richard, and have power and lands all in one fell swoop!"

The Sheriff giggled mischievously. He quickly looked about himself to see if anyone was watching, then returned to his uniform pace. Vaizey returned the skull stand to its proper position, and left the teeth on the floor to the maids. He took out the spotted tooth that was his favorite, and stuck that one in with a satisfying crunch. He returned to his plotting. "Now, how am I going to tide Prince John over in the meantime? I can't really give him anything except—" And the Sheriff grinned from ear to ear. "Oh. I know what he wants. Oh, yes, I know _exactly _what he wants." The Sheriff practically skipped to the door and looked out the corridor. He spotted a scribe. "You! Get in here! I want you to write me a proclamation. And _you_," the Sheriff yelled (rather happily), pointing to a guard, "Saddle my horse. We are going to Clun."

000

The gang traveled in silence, something that Much just couldn't stand. He understood the seriousness of the matter; the gang had never gone anywhere with a _purpose _to kill someone before. Much just didn't understand why they had to do it so quietly and making the trip even more dismal. The way he saw it, Sherwood was a beautiful place. The six of them were all together, and they were safe. For now. So why was everybody acting like they were going to a funeral?

Oh, right.

But Much still couldn't stand it.

The outlaws moved quickly just along the road until they heard a child cry from the North Road, "Robin! Robin!" and whistling to gain their attention. The gang broke into a formation and hid behind the trees. Robin signaled for Will to peek at who it was, even though the child was still shouting, "Robin! Robin Hood!"

Will turned around and looked confused.

"Who is it?" asked John.

"It's… It's Daniel," Will said slowly, "But what's he doing away from his mother?" Daniel, the honorary member of Robin's gang, was becoming worried that he would never find the gang, and started running around frantically to find them.

"Robin, we have to get him to be quiet," said Djaq. "If a guard hears him, the whole area will be searched." Robin, however, was in a daze, now so close to reaching his goal.

"Robin? Master?" said Much, afraid that he might have to shake him out of it.

Daniel stopped running and yelled, "ROBIN HOOD!" The scream was so loud it rustled the trees. It caused birds to fly out of sight. And it left the gang petrified at their, well, exposure to any well-hearing man within a mile.

"Oh, now he's done it!" whispered Allan. "We are dead."

"We go," John said, "Now." The gang left their hiding spots, much to Daniel's delight, but before he could say how happy he was to see them again, John picked Daniel up and they ran away from the road. Robin had to be almost pushed by Much and Will sometimes for him to keep up. Finally they reached a clearing, and they all sat down.

"What was that for?" asked Daniel, brushing the leaves that stuck to him upon his impact with the ground.

Allan turned to look at him. "Look, mate, we appreciate your 'elp and all, but when you want to find us, don't yell Robin's name at the top of your lungs. Alright?"

"Why not?"

"Well," said Much, "We were probably not the only people who heard that screeching of yours. But it doesn't matter now. I mean, all the guards from Nottingham could be coming this way, surrounding us and skewering us with half a dozen swords _each_, but it doesn't matter. What do you want, Daniel?"

"The Sheriff is coming to Clun," Daniel said.

"Why?" asked Djaq.

"He's going to make a speech or something, and everyone's so scared, so they sent me to find you, and I'm sorry if they skewer you, but they need you Robin… Robin?" Daniel asked, searching for the friendly man he once knew in the depressing shell that Robin was.

"Um, Robin's a bit distracted right now, Daniel," said Much quickly, "He, um, has a lot on his mind right now." Much looked to Will for help.

"Yeah," said Will, "But don't worry, somebody's going to come to Clun. When's the Sheriff's speech?"

"Noon," said Daniel.

Allan looked up at the sky. He muttered a, "That's less than an hour from now," that only Will could hear.

Will managed a half of a smile at Daniel. "Someone will be there, I promise." Daniel smiled up at him, and ran off into the wood. Will watched him go, and Djaq squeezed his shoulder.

"Well, I don't want to be the one to break it to you," said Much, "But we have a plan to kill Gisbourne. You know, _today?_ All the Sheriff's doing is making a _speech_. Why did you promise that we were going to be there?"

"We've seen the Sheriff's speeches before," said John darkly, "They usually come with a demonstration. A violent demonstration."

**Clun**

The six outlaws positioned themselves in a place where they wouldn't be seen, but they could still hear the Sheriff. Which would not be hard, seeing as Vaizey naturally yelled. Even his whispers were loud.

The Sheriff, surrounded by fifteen guards, stood on the gallows in front of the people of Clun. They murmured nervously, and several light sobs could be heard throughout the crowd. The Sheriff just smiled and waved, clutching his parchment and playfully swinging the noose. He signaled for the trumpeters to began their song, and the crowd was hushed.

Vaizey did not even bother to read what the scribe had written for him; he would get his point across. "People," the Sheriff preached, "My dear, dear people of Clun. As you know, there is a war happening now. And during a war, there are troubled times. In order to maintain discipline and order throughout England, the realm must be supported. For the good of the people," said Vaizey, gesturing to the audience before him, "The realm must be supported. And sometimes, to do this, drastic action must be taken, and sacrifices must be made. Consider yourselves lucky: you have been chosen to participate in one such sacrifice."

"What's he goin' on about?" whispered Allan to John.

"Therefore, as of today, a new law will be brought into order: your taxes, along with the taxes of all the villages under my rule, have been doubled." Gasps rippled through the villagers. A baby began to cry in the outer reaches of the crowd, and the Sheriff smiled knowing the pain and suffering he had just caused with a flick of his tongue.

"Furthermore," the Sheriff continued, "Poaching laws will now be thoroughly enforced. And if you do not remember those laws, being the simple people you are, the law is this," Vaizey unrolled his scroll for the first time, "'All game caught in the forests of England that was not provided by the government of that region, shall be punished in the way the sheriff of the land sees fit'." The Sheriff smiled and rerolled the parchment. "In other words," he said, "If you get your food from Sherwood and not from me," the Sheriff stopped and put the noose around his neck. Almost jokingly he pretended to be dead, for he rolled his eyes back and stuck his tongue out. The peasants gasped again, and the Sheriff just laughed. "Good, I see you get it. Well, just so there are no… misunderstandings, I shall give you some time to remove any illegal game from your houses. When these lads blow their horns again, come back and we shall talk about debt and punishments. Now, shoo! Go off and burn your meat!"

The gang regrouped in the woods shortly after the crowd dispersed. They sat in absolute shock, the Sheriff's words beginning to sink in.

"He… He can't do that," said Much.

Djaq shook her head. "I think you'll find that he can, Much."

"Well, what are we going to do about it?" asked Will, "The poor don't have much money as it is! If the taxes are doubled…" he trailed off, leaving the gang's minds to wander. Most of the images they thought of were of executions.

John made a horrible sound in the back of his throat that came out sort of as a growl. "This, I do not like."

"And if he stops poaching, I mean, _really_ stops poaching, then the poor will starve as well," Much stated. "They can't afford to feed themselves and pay their taxes." Much stood up and punched the nearest tree. "That is revolting! Oh, no, do you think they will have guards in the forest?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," said Will bitterly.

"That means that _we_ have to be careful hunting as well! Oh, no, I hope we don't run out of food…" Much put his head in his hands.

"And did you hear what he said would come next?" said Djaq, leaning into the circle, "He said next he would discuss debt and punishments."

Much laughed dryly. "I don't think that discussions are what he had in mind."

"The demonstrations." John said, nodding. "He is going to make an example out of some of the villagers."

Suddenly, and to the gang's surprise, Robin stood and headed back towards the woods. Much looked at John, and Will and Djaq looked at each other. John glared at Robin's back and growled again. He stood up with his staff, jogged up to the point where he was in front of Robin, then stopped him from going any further.

"Get out of the way, John," said Robin emotionlessly.

"And where do you think you're going?" asked John. "There are people in trouble! They need your help!"

"Everybody would be helped if Gisbourne was dead," Robin stated, trying to weave around John. John scoffed and blocked Robin with his staff.

"Oh, really? Everybody would be helped? Or is it just you?" asked John accusingly.

"You don't understand," Robin muttered.

"What don't we understand?" asked Will, raising his voice as the rest of the outlaws approached the spot where John and Robin stood. "What, Robin? What it's like to lose a loved one? Most of us have, Robin! And weren't you the one who told me that revenge wasn't the answer?" Robin was silent at this.

"Robin," Much started, "We all cared about Marion—"

"Not as much as I did!" Robin yelled.

"We are not saying that, Robin," tried Djaq, "But what would Marion want you to do? Kill Gisbourne or save the people of Clun?" Robin pretended he didn't hear and took steps away from them and toward the road to Locksley.

"Master," said Much boldly, "I'm afraid I can't come with you if you do that."

Robin stopped. "Maybe I didn't want you to come with me, anyway."

"Good," Much said, close to tears.

"Fine."

"I'm leaving."

"Okay."

"Get killed. See if I care!" Much stomped off back to their hiding place, followed by Will, Djaq and John. Only Allan stayed behind.

Robin almost laughed. "Well, what are you still here for? Are you going to try and stop me from killing Gisbourne, too?"

"No. No, I'm not," said Allan. "You see, mate, I know 'ow you feel. When I was… well, when I was angry with you, I really wanted revenge. Nothing that anybody said would stop me, and if they tried, I got angry with them. So I figured, why should you feel any different? If not worse? I mean, Guy did kill Marion. So, no, I'm not goin' to stop you. In fact, I'm goin' to 'elp you. 'Cause let's face it, goin' into Locksley by yourself would be suicide, right?" Allan managed to crack a smile, but Robin just nodded. Then, with the quickness of a fox, Robin bolted in the direction his hometown, Allan a Dale close behind.

**Locksley Manor**

Guy tossed and turned. The Sheriff had told him to get some sleep, but he couldn't. He tried. The Lord knew that Guy had tried.

Guy had tried everything. He thought about happy things to make him fall asleep, but images of Marion slipped into his mind. He got one of the serving girls to sing to him. Terrified and shaking, every note she sang came out sour, so Guy sent her away. He tried pacing around the room to make himself physically exhausted, but that only made the insomnia worse. Finally, mental exhaustion slowly took over, and Guy rested his head. His eyelids began to feel heavy, and soon the lights blurred and he was asleep.

But Guy was not dreaming.

He was in a nightmare, floating like a feather on the wind in an inescapable darkness. It was consuming him. With every breath, he became thinner, and every squirming motion caused more and more of his body to disappear. Not that Guy could see it. He was blind in this nightmare of his, but he could feel himself being ripped apart and become lighter and weightless. Guy tried to call out, but the silence was weighing down on him, making him heavy and light at the same time. He thought this to be the most sickening feeling; to be pulled down to earth and floating to the heavens, being stretched like a piece of twine. Being stretched somewhere in the middle, with no energy to do anything. Nevertheless, he began to scream. Amidst those screams, Guy called out names.

"My lord?" he said, "Marion! Mother! Mother, please! My lord? Marion!" A faint light appeared just out of Guy's reach. "Marion!" he cried once more, "Marion! Marion!" The light became bigger and took shape of Marion's face. Her beautiful, beautiful face. Guy could now feel and see his self gathering together, in the warmth of her presence, to become whole again. He smiled and began to laugh at his good fortune.

Marion smiled at him. "I'm here, Guy."

"Yes, I know," said Guy, who could hardly contain his joy. "I knew you would never leave me!"

"I'm here, Guy," Marion said again. Then she began to laugh, and it sounded like the tinkling of bells, or the bubbling of a stream. Before Guy could savor it, Marion screamed. It was a shrill, bone-chilling scream that Guy associated with death—

Oh, no. She can't. She's already dead! She can't die again! "Marion!" Guy yelled into the light that was fading away. "Marion! MARION!" Then the light fizzed out and disappeared with a _pop_. And Guy was left alone in the darkness once more. Except there was something wrong. The darkness wasn't consuming him. The only explanation Guy could think of was that something — or some_one_ — else was there.

"You're right, Gisbourne."

Guy looked about, but saw no one. Suddenly, a red, flaming arrow narrowly missed Guy's head and was absorbed in the darkness behind him. Then another came. And another. And another. Then from all different directions a barrage of flaming arrows attacked Guy, burning pieces off his clothes and singeing hair that Guy couldn't protect with his arms. When at last Guy could not take it anymore, the arrows stopped. He let his arms fall back to their original position.

Booming laughter shook the space Guy was in, making his whole body shake. This laughter was not jolly, it was evil. It was like the Devil himself. Then, the same red fire that surrounded the arrows appeared, also making a face. Guy narrowed his eyes in disgust. He knew who it was. The face that was always sneering at him, the one man whom he hated above all.

"Hood," said Guy.

"You are surprised, Gisbourne?" said the flaming Robin-head.

"You killed her!" exclaimed Guy. "Just now! You killed Marion."

Robin just laughed again. "No, Gisbourne. _You_ killed her." Out of the nothingness a Robin-hand of red flame gestured to a white circle in the darkness Guy did not notice before. It, too, was wreathed in flame. The circled showed the Holy Land. It showed the King being shot, and Guy approaching the body. It showed Marion block Guy's way, and before anything was said, the Guy in the circle stabbed Marion through the heart several times before running away from the body like a coward.

Guy tried to close his eyes, but found that he couldn't. When it was over, Robin chuckled again.

"But that's not how it happened!" screamed Guy.

Robin traced a line with his finger over his forehead thoughtfully. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Why are you so certain? Do you even remember? Or did you not want to remember?"

Guy's head began to hurt. "I… can't…remember… But I didn't kill her! You did."

Robin feigned innocence. "Me? Little old me?" Then Robin laughed wickedly and disappeared with another _pop_. And in a second that felt like forever, Guy disintegrated into the blackness.

He couldn't breathe.

He was gasping for air.

He was screaming her name but she couldn't hear it, and now it would be too late… Marion… Marion…

Guy landed with a thud on the floor of his bedchamber with the bed sheets sprawled about him. He rubbed his head. What had just happened? Well, whatever it was, Guy knew one thing: the Sheriff was right. Robin would try and kill him.

"Well, then," said Guy, "I'll be waiting for him."

000

Robin began to slow down as the race went on, until finally he stopped for a breather in the woods just outside of Locksley, much to Allan's relief.

"So," Allan said, panting, "What's the plan?"

"I thought we already had one," said Robin.

"Yeah, but that was when we 'ad four more people," said Allan, looking down the center of town, "And we expected fewer guards."

Robin nodded. Allan was right. In the original plan, the gang only expected around ten guards, fifteen at the most, in Locksley. Upon further inspection, Robin counted a startling amount of guards to overcome in order to breach the manor house.

"Forty," Robin whispered.

Allan almost fell over. "Forty guards? What does Gisbourne need forty guards for?"

Robin kept his eyes on the front door of the manor. "I don't know."

"Maybe 'e was expecting you," suggested Allan.

"Or maybe this is the Sheriff's speech in action before he gives it," said Robin.

"Either way, we need a way to sneak in. There's no way we can take on forty guards by ourselves, even if I do say so meself."

Robin concentrated on finding a suitable route in. "We can duck around Will's old house," Robin concluded, "Then just walk right in. The hard part will be getting into the center of town. Any ideas?"

Allan shook his head. "Ideas aren't really my cup of tea, mate."

"Well, then," said Robin, laying all of his weapons on the forest floor and slouching against a tree, "We'll just have to sit here and think of a brilliant one. Tell me, Allan, can you sing?"

Allan laughed nervously. "Not _really_, Robin. But I sort-of know 'ow to play the lute." Robin smiled at this, but it wasn't the sort of smile that Allan liked. It was cold and wicked, and seeing Robin smile like that made Allan have second thoughts on following Robin at all.

000

Guy ordered every servant, and any person who could possibly interfere with his personal fight with Hood, out of the house. A boy told him that Robin was seen coming from a port town early that morning, according to a guard posted there, and he was coming home fast. _Well, he must be coming to see me,_ thought Guy.

Then Guy sent the boy to get as many guards from the castle that the Sheriff could spare down to Locksley. He wanted to kill Hood himself, but Guy saw no point in wasting his energy on that lying, murderous bastard who had an execution long overdue. Guy did predict the extremely unlikely occurrence of Robin sneaking past the guards, but did not care. How would he sneak through all those guards in the open town, in broad daylight, with his infernal gang who would go with him? So, with a smug grin on his face, Gisbourne sat down in front of the fire and poured himself a glass of wine.

Much was close to just leaving the hiding spot the four of them had chosen and going after Robin. Robin was still his friend, even if he had gone a bit off his chump since Marion died. At the same time, Much could not just abandon everything that the gang had always stood for, just for some suicidal assassination attempt. Much had standards when it came to disobeying Robin. They were extremely low, but he had them.

The sun became a little bit lower, but the Sheriff didn't seem to mind. He was playing with the noose still, scaring the woman and children who passed with their illegal meat. They would squeal a bit, before scurrying to the enormous bonfire in the center of town.

"That is such a waste," whispered Will, "Think of all the mouths that that meat would have fed!" Djaq rubbed his back soothingly, and Will kissed her cheek. Much looked at John and, not fancying him much, stuck his tongue out.

When it seemed that the last of the game was being brought to the fire, the Sheriff ordered the trumpets to signal the re-gathering of the people. Cautiously the people came forward, but this time there was a greater gap between the Sheriff on the gallows and the people of Clun. The Sheriff noticed.

"Now," the Sheriff said, "Having new laws means that there need to be new punishments. If you fail to pay your taxes, the head of the family will be executed. Whether that head is man, woman, or, _God forbid,_ a _child_, that person will be swinging from the nearest gallows before you can say, 'Oops, I forgot'."

John muttered curses under his breath. Much shushed him so he could hear the punishment for poaching.

"And speaking of children," continued the Sheriff, "If you are caught poaching in the woods, or illegal meat is found in your house – Oh, by the way, I am authorizing guards to search your house," the Sheriff chuckled. "Anyhow, if you break the poaching law, the youngest child of your family will be executed." The people of Clun erupted in protest, shouting and storming the gallows where the Sheriff stood, unafraid. The guards positioned themselves in front of the gallows and drew their swords. The uproar died down.

"I'll kill him for this," grumbled John, even know they all knew he couldn't.

"If you don't have a child, the punishment for the taxes immediately apply. Obviously I cannot enforce the poaching punishment _now_," said the Sheriff, "for everyone here had illegal game in their houses. Wouldn't it be a shame if every family here lost their youngest child?" The Sheriff laughed, but continued quickly. "Now, I need to make an example of one of you who is in debt. I promised this person would have a break on their taxes until next week. Well, I am changing my mind. Now, he doesn't live here, but perhaps you know him?" The Sheriff gestured to a figure with a black sack over his head, trying in vain to get out of the grip of the guards who were leading him up to the gallows.

"Let me introduce you," the Sheriff said, smiling to the crowd. He removed the bag, and all four of the outlaws' breathing hitched.

It was Bradford.

"He will die at sundown," the Sheriff announced, "Unless the correct amount of payment is put forward before then. And by the way, the correct amount is about four times your original tax. Until then!" The crowd immediately dispersed before anyone else was made into an example. The gang sneaked back into the forest, too stunned to say anything. The returned to camp and stared at each other.

"Well, I'd say we have an hour. Maybe two," said Djaq, breaking the silence.

"But," said Will quietly, "We don't have that much money. We haven't robbed anyone since before the Holy Land. Four times what we are already trying to give? Forget it! There's no way we can get that much money in two hours."

"So we have to save him," reasoned Djaq.

"Do you think the Sheriff knows about Bradford helping us?" asked Much. Everyone shrugged. "You do, don't you?"

"Much," started John, "That is not the most important—"

"Oh, but it is!" Much snapped. "Because if the Sheriff knows when we got here, then he knows Robin will go after Gisbourne—"

"And now Robin and Allan are walking into a trap," finished Djaq in horror. Much nodded, feeling extremely clever.

John stood up angrily. "But we can't just leave Bradford to be executed! And you all know we can't save him on our own! We need Robin!"

"Well, you know what, John?" Much asked, standing too, "The man out there, in Locksley, about to kill Gisbourne, is not Robin. The man who abandoned the people of Clun when they needed him is not Robin. The man who… rejected his _friends_… is not Robin either!"

"So, what do you suggest, Much?" asked Will, running out of options.

Much picked up his sword and shield and walked to the door of the camp. "I am going to get the real Robin back. You guys coming?" Djaq smiled and ran out into Sherwood with Much, followed by Will and John. They ran towards Locksley.

The sky started to turn pink as the sun fell lower in the sky.

000

Robin was close to giving up the idea of Allan's distraction and was going to walk straight into Locksley Manor, for two reasons. One, he discovered that Allan could not sing to save his life (which, in fact, was what he was doing), and two, because he could not compensate for this by playing a proper chord on the lute. The poor minstrel the two had stolen this from not fifteen minutes ago was probably on his way to Nottingham to get the lute tuned. God knew it needed it.

"Come one, come all to 'ear Allan a Dale, the greatest minstrel who ever lived!" said Allan, drawing the guards' attention.

Robin rolled his eyes in impatience. "Show off," he muttered.

"A penny a song, a penny a song! Now, little lady, will you give a poor minstrel a penny?" Allan asked a stranger, bowing. The lady blushed and put a penny in Allan's lute. Allan struck an unpleasant chord and began to sing. "Oh! Once there was a pretty maid! Oh, ho, a pretty ditty maid!" Allan began to skip around whilst thinking of more rhyming gibberish he could sing. "Err, if she needed 'elp, she would call for aid. Oh, ho, she would call for aid!"

Robin smacked his forehead with his palm and began to sneak around Will's old house. However gruesome to listen to, Allan's distraction was working. Most of the guards and even some town folk came outside to see what on earth was making that ungodly noise.

Allan just smiled, and began to sweat when seeing the lady who gave him a penny frown in disapproval and go back inside her house. He thought of a verse that would attract everyone's attention, including Robin's. "And then along came _Robin Hood_," Allan sang, which made every guard in earshot look at him, "To save 'er like a 'ero would. He'd stop the Sheriff well and good!" Allan held the note on "good" until the guards grabbed their swords. "Oh, ho, here's to Robin Hood!" Allan struck a final sour chord.

Guy went to the door to see what was going on. He saw Allan holding a lute, while forty guards stood idly by. "That's an outlaw, you fools!" he yelled, startling the guards. "Get him!" Before Guy could give any more orders, a blow to the stomach knocked the wind out of him. It was Robin, who, after punching Guy in the gut, knocked him backwards into the Manor. Robin closed the door.

"It's just you and me," Robin said, unsheathing his sword.

Guy stood up quickly and laughed. "I thought you'd never come!" Guy picked up his sword and within seconds both men were dueling with a passion they never had before.

Meanwhile, Allan bowed to an invisible applauding audience, while two guards approached to arrest him.

"Now, 'ang on gents," said Allan, dropping his lute, "Surely, it was only a little fun…" The guards drew their swords and took a couple steps towards Allan. "I don't want to fight you," Allan pressed, "I am just a poor minstrel after all—" And, so fast that the guards couldn't believe it, Allan retrieved his sword from beneath the folds of his cloak and began fighting them both. They were quickly disarmed and knocked out, but before Allan could celebrate, the other thirty-eight guards moved toward him. Allan took steps backwards, hoping he could run to camp. But even Allan knew he couldn't outrun that many guards.

All sense leaving him, Allan stood his ground. He held his sword at in front of him. Maybe he couldn't win this fight, but maybe he could kill enough of them to give Robin a fighting chance. And it wasn't such a bad way to go, really, to die saving Robin. It would make up for every lie and betrayal he'd ever done. Just as six guards were running at him, about to run him through, Much, Djaq, Will, and John came bursting out of the woods behind Allan and took the six guards in battle.

Allan found himself smiling, realizing that he was lucky to have these great friends. Then the reality of the situation washed over him. "Get inside!" Allan yelled to the villagers who were standing in shock outside their homes. "Now!" They did as he said. And so, screaming a war cry that matched their own, Allan joined his friends in protecting Robin.

After a quick banter, Robin had once again thrown Guy across the room, knocking over a chair. Already they were both sweating and panting. Robin took the opportunity of this pause to tell Gisbourne what he thought of him.

"I have waited for this day," said Robin, "I have been waiting for so long since the day you ran away from the Holy Land. Like a _coward_."

Guy sneered. "I see you wasted no time getting to me, though. Do I bother you that much?"

Robin raised his sword. "I will avenge Marion's death."

"Why?" asked Gisbourne, circling around the table in the middle of the room. "It's not like she really loved you."

"WHAT?" Robin screamed, attacking Gisbourne. Robin jumped up onto the table and made to jump down on Gisbourne. Guy, in return, held his sword at upword, hoping to impale Robin as he jumped down, but Robin stepped backwards to avoid the blade. Guy jumped up on the table, and the two began to duel again. To Guy's surprise, he disarmed Robin, but Robin picked up a plate from the table and knocked Gisbourne off-balance to send him crashing to the floor once again.

"That's not fair, Hood!" said Guy. "In a fair fight, I would kill you!"

"Yeah? Well, this is not going to be a fair fight, Gisbourne!" Robin yelled at him, descending from the table. "And Marion did love me, more than you could know!"

"She did not," Guy replied, slowly reaching for his sword, "She only felt obligated to you through your love in your youth. You know, when you _abandoned her?_"

Guy charged at Robin with his sword, knocking the pommel of it into Robin's gut. When Robin leaned forward, Guy punched him in the face. Guy raised his sword, but before he could kill Robin, Robin tripped Guy backwards with his legs. Robin quickly took Guy's sword and held it above him.

"Obligated to me? Marion was in no way obligated to me! And I did not abandon her."

"Well, you would have even if I hadn't—" Guy stopped himself.

Robin held the point of the blade close to Guy's throat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Which of us could have given Marion a better life? A normal life? A life that she _wanted_?" asked Guy, at which Robin paused. "I risked everything to keep her safe!"

"And I didn't?" asked Robin, outraged.

"YOU HAD NOTHING TO GIVE!" Guy bellowed, knocking away the blade in front of him and scrambling to Robin's sword. Guy picked it up. "What was your plan after marrying her? Marion would live as an outlaw in the forest with you?"

"Better than living in the castle with _you_!" said Robin. Guy picked up the table in a fit of rage and tossed it and its contents to the side, leaving no obstacle between him and Robin.

"You have no money, no lands, no title," said Gisbourne, taking a step towards him with every word. Guy laughed. "You don't even have your blessed servants anymore. I only saw Allan out there," Guy said. "Did little Robin lose his friends, too?" Robin ran toward Guy, instantly engaging him into another fierce duel. The last insult had caused Robin to act more quickly and strike harder, and for a second Guy thought he was going to die. But Robin only disarmed him again and pushed him into the overturned table, where Guy crumpled to the ground. Both men took a second to breathe.

"Now you listen to me," said Robin in a cold whisper, "And you listen well. You did not love Marion." Before Guy could argue, Robin kept talking. "You only loved the Marion she _pretended_ to be to get information out of you! I knew the real Marion. I knew about the Night Watchman, and her father. I knew her true feelings about politics. So, I loved _all_ of her, not what I wanted her to be! And, in knowing Marion's feelings, I know that she did care for you. She thought you could be a better person." Robin scoffed. "But you let Marion down, didn't you?"

Guy could not argue that. He just swallowed, trying to keep the tears back. He would not let Hood have the satisfaction. Robin leaned against a wall, waiting for Guy to make a move. It was not what Robin expected.

"Kill me," Guy whispered. Robin turned around and stared at him. "Kill me," said Guy once more, "I don't deserve to live. I killed Marion, and she… she was all I had." Guy laughed dryly. "At least you have your friends, Hood."

Robin thought about that for a minute. He did have his friends. They loved him, too. And they weren't trying to stop Robin from killing Guy earlier, they just wanted him to get his priorities straight. And, like waking up from a dream, Robin realized what he had done. _I'm so sorry, Much,_ he thought. Robin also realized what he needed to do with Gisbourne.

"I'm not going to kill you," Robin said. "You may want it, but it will make you stronger if live with your mistake. Besides," Robin said, looking at the ring on his finger and throwing away Guy's sword, "Marion wouldn't want me to." Robin could tell by his silence that Gisbourne agreed.

"MASTER!" cried Much, running in through the front door. He looked around in bewilderment. He thought for sure that one of them would be dead by now. Much was even more surprised when Robin gave him a huge hug upon seeing him.

"Much, I am _so_ sorry," said Robin.

Much smiled at Robin. "It's alright," said Much, "You weren't yourself."

"Well, I am now," Robin said definitively. "So, what happened with the people of Clun—?"

"Robin!" John yelled, rushing in. "The Sheriff has Bradford."

"What?" asked Robin, grabbing his own sword off the floor and sheathing it.

"He's going to execute him if someone doesn't give him four times the first tax."

Robin paused, imagining how much that would be. "We don't have any money, do we?" he asked. Much looked at Robin pleadingly. Then Robin snapped his fingers. "Okay, I have a plan, but you guys need to fill me in on some things." John and Much nodded. Robin went into the center of Locksley and saw Allan, Djaq and Will taking on and defeating their last men. "My gang, this way!" Robin called, and the gang could not help but smile and laugh. They had their old Robin back.

000

The Sheriff smiled and looked to the sky. It was practically sundown. He was hoping he could catch Robin Hood in the process, but a nice execution would cheer him up. Vaizey returned to the gallows and got the villagers' attention. The man, Bradford, or whatever his name was, was brought likewise to the noose.

"People of Clun," said the Sheriff, "This man will now die. Does anyone here have any money to keep this man alive?" Silence. "Anyone?" The Sheriff chuckled. He would have his execution after all.

Then a small, hooded boy walked slowly towards the gallows, holding a small pouch gingerly as if it would fall. Whispers began going through the crowd. "Daniel?" they whispered in surprise, "Daniel? Daniel? Daniel?" The Sheriff was shocked, of course, but if he got the money, then it wouldn't be so bad.

"Hello, um, _Daniel_," said the Sheriff. He could not see the boy's face as he took the pouch, but Vaizey swore that he saw the brat smirking. Vaizey examined the contents of the pouch in the increasingly fading light. Just a note and some dirt. No money. Vaizey picked up the note and read it. There was only one word on the parchment.

_Surprise._

He saw the kid telling everybody to back away, and two of Hood's outlaws sneaking on and taking Bradford away. And when Vaizey saw the flaming arrow hit the pouch he was holding, he realized.

The dirt was black powder.

Vaizey dropped the pouch onto the gallows and leapt onto a pile of hay. A small explosion ripped through the wooden structure and caused the scaffold to collapse. The people cheered, chanting Hood's name.

"Why?" the Sheriff asked himself, oh so many times, "Why is nothing ever SIMPLE?"

**Outlaws' Camp**

The gang returned to camp in time for Much to cook a make-shift meal. It wasn't anything special, mainly rabbit and some old bread, but no one seemed to mind.

"So, just how much black powder did you make before we set off to the Holy Land?" Robin asked Djaq. "I know it saved us from the mercenaries, but…" he trailed off.

Djaq shrugged. "Enough for emergencies," she said. "I can make more, but it would take a while." An awkward silence filled the camp. Finally, Robin stood.

"Lads," he said, nodding to Djaq, "I am truly sorry for the way I've been acting these past few months."

"Tell me about it," said Allan, "We thought you were right off your rocker."

"And did you see the way he treated Much?" added Will.

Robin crossed his arms. "Alright, alright, you weren't supposed to agree with me!"

"Yeah!" said Much, "Let Robin finish telling us how much of an idiot he was." The gang paused, holding in their laughter. Then Robin picked up his bread and threw it at Much. John threw his bread at Robin, and so until the entire gang had a massive food fight. Robin was back. The waste was worth it.

Later that evening, Robin took the ring out of his pocket. He wandered around Sherwood while everyone picked up the mess that technically _they_ had started. Robin considered burying the ring, shutting away all of his grief forever. But then he thought of how many lives it had saved that day, because Marion was watching him. So, in a way, the ring was a reminder of the good things that Marion would want him to do. With that in mind, Robin put the ring on his left hand, and walked back to camp.

_End of Episode One_

**A/N:** Just to explain some of the Sheriff's dialogue at the beginning of the episode: Presumably the Sheriff wasn't _just _a sheriff, because he obviously had a lot more power and prestige than your local jailor guy who owns a big castle. Otherwise, he wouldn't be making pacts with lords and knights, not to mention conspiring with royalty. His position was probably a front for what he actually was, namely a usurper. So that is why he was so mad that he got demoted to "just" a sheriff. Also, I am assuming that the first two seasons took place in around two to three years, but with the time it takes to go to the Holy Land and back, plus the time in between episodes that we don't see, I rounded up to four.


End file.
